Or until it’s a need-to-know situation.”

“Need to know? You mean if you find a guy you like? Is it too early to start matchmaking? Because

Darren’s cousin—”

“Too early!” I add a growl in case she tries to play Cupid anyway, and I hastily change subjects.

“Whatever happened between you and Darren anyway? I thought he was your first.”

Annie sighs. “I wasn’t very nice to him a couple of years ago. I lead him on. When he asked me out

I turned him down.”

“Why’d you turn him down?”

She studies the stone in her hand then passes it to me. It’s dark grey and long, like a dolphin. “He

was too nice.”

“How is that a problem?”

“Well, back then it was.” She pulls the sleeping bag up to her neck. “I didn’t want to hurt him, and I

knew I would.”

“But did you like him?”

She smiles. “Yeah. I still do. Haven’t you noticed I’m always out of my room when Jace has him

around?”

Until she said it, I hadn’t.

I grin. “Why don’t you apologize? Maybe you could try again.”

“I sorta missed the boat on that one. He has a girlfriend now.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s all right. Live and learn, right?”

“You sound like Mum.”

The way Annie cuddles against me says she likes the compliment. We stay like this, sharing

warmth and staring at the wide river and the inky tree shapes, until our eyelids droop and exhaustion

sinks us toward the riverbed.

“I know what it is,” I mumble through the last bit of consciousness I have left.

“What’s that?”

“We all want to be a ten on the Mohs scale. But we’re not. It’s why I love diamonds.” And the idea

of not getting hurt.

She yawns. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

We use our last bit of energy to pull ourselves back to the campsite. Annie zombies off to her tent,

and I drag myself to mine.

My sleeping bag is damp from the night air and the wet rocks. I shiver as I curl into a tight ball to

keep warm. My teeth chatter uncontrollably.

I’m too tired to fumble around for more clothes. Jace stirs and I curse my shivers for waking him.

His adorably sleepy voice says, “Huh? You cold?”

“I’ll be fine,” I murmur, except it comes out as a chattering of teeth.

Ziiiip. Jace lifts his sleeping bag. “Come in here. I’ll keep you warm.”

“S’okay.”

“Don’t make me drag you in here, Cooper.”

Will he really drag me in there? I can’t say it sounds terrible, but sleeping next to a pissed off Jace

who can’t sleep doesn’t sound better. I pull my damp bag over to Jace. I slip one leg inside his opened

bag and the warmth instantly cocoons my skin. I fold my body in all the way. His hot skin touches my

arms and legs.

“Mmm. Better,” he says, eyes drooping shut. “Better close the zipper or your back’ll get cold.” I

twist to follow his instructions, but Jace quickly threads an arm over my side, finds the zipper and

closes it.

My body refuses to ignore this intimate closeness with Jace’s body. To stop a burgeoning erection, I

shut my eyes and catalogue my favorite fifty stones, half of which have memories of Jace imbued into

them.

I’m wide awake and warm again. Jace’s eyes shut and his mouth hangs partly open. His chest rises

and falls evenly, and I feel it against my own. I’m glad he’s asleep so he doesn’t notice my heart

hammering against my ribs, my inability to breathe, or my shivering when his leg shifts between mine

and pins me down.

My mind wanders to the magazines under his bed. I sigh, and sleepiness settles heavy and warm

over me.

I’m hiding in a cave in the bush. I need to think. I hear Jace singing by the creek. Low and

soft, his voice vibrates through the ground to my feet and into my body. I’ve never heard him sing

before, but it’s beautiful. I don’t want him to stop. I sit on a tree stump and absorb the sad, sweet,

familiar-sounding song that I’ve never heard before.

chalk

A week later, Annie and I go to Mum’s after school. I wonder how long it’ll be before I clutch the

triangular chalk in my pocket like it’s a lifeline.

“You’re unusually quiet today,” Annie remarks, opening the gate for us. “You all good?”

We shuffle up the path. “I’m fine.”

“Sure about that?”

I nod. “No.”

She loops an arm through mine and whispers, “Are you going to tell Mum?”

I resist grabbing my stone this soon. “Maybe.”

“Want me to be with you?”

I shrug. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“I can wait in the study—just signal me if you want me to come out.”

Annie’s keys jingle as she unlocks the front door. “Hey Mum, we’re home!”

Mum yells back. “In the kitchen!”

I kick off my shoes and beeline toward the scent of freshly-baked cookies.

The flour-covered kitchen is a mess of bowls, wooden spoons, and trays. Mum smiles and wipes

her hands on her apple-print apron, which reminds me of Granny Smiths and that girl Jace likes. Susan.

I’m not hungry for cookies anymore.

Is it pointless to come out as gay when I don’t even have a boyfriend? Maybe I should do this when

I actually have someone to bring home.

This is your pathetic attempt at talking yourself out of telling her, chickenshit.

Annie steals a cookie off the cooling tray and juggles it until it’s cool enough to bite. “These are

good,” she says with a mouthful.

“They should be,” Mum says, ducking out of her apron and herding us to the dining table. She

plants the cooling tray between us. “They’re a bribe of sorts.”

Annie and I exchange glances. What’s going on here?

Mum paces, wringing her hands. Her eyes light up and she bites her bottom lip. Why is she so

excited? Did she get promoted to a new job? Does she want to move?

My stomach lurches at the thought. I don’t want to start over again. Besides, what would be the

point of moving? It’s Annie’s last year before university and . . . Ernie and Bert and . . . Dad and . . . She

wouldn’t make us move now, would she? I swallow.

I grip Annie’s hand under the table. She looks at me, startled. I guess she’s not thinking what I am.

“What is it, Mum?” Annie asks, taking another cookie.

She nods and pulls out a chair. When she settles into it, she looks at each of us in turn. “I’ve met

someone. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now.”

“Say what now?”

I couldn’t have heard her right. Mum’s here every afternoon when we come home from school.

When—

We leave to Dad’s for a week.

Oh.

Annie’s cookie crumbles.

“His name is Paul. He’s a librarian. I met him at Memorial Library in Lower Hutt, and well, we hit

it off.”

“A few months?” Annie repeats. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Mum takes a cookie but doesn’t bite. “I didn’t want to make more waves for you. I wanted to make

sure it was serious before I told you about him.”

“So it’s serious then?” I’m trying to work through my initial shock. It’s a weird thought that Mum

has been dating some guy for months. Weird to know that someone else is creeping into her life—and

by extension, our lives.

But I’m happy for her and I like her excitement. I especially like that she hasn’t gotten a new job

and we’re not moving. I breathe out and smile broadly.

I squeeze Annie’s hand. “Paul, eh?”

Mum nods. “Yeah, and he’d love to meet my beautiful children.”

Annie sweeps up her broken cookie. I can tell it’s taking her an effort to keep it together. She

quietly excuses herself and throws the crumbs into the bin. When she comes back, she has a wobbly

smile on her face.

“Do you love him?” she asks.

Mum hesitates. “I like him very much, and I definitely think I could love him. But to be sure, I need

to know how he treats you guys. And what you guys think of him.” She gestures toward the cookies.